A Night to Remember
by booklover4816
Summary: The year is 1912 and America is returning home from a diplomatic trip in London. England decides to book the young nation a ticket on the Unsinkable Titanic. God himself can't sink it, they say, but America knows that if you challenge God, He will answer. Whatever the outcome, this is a trip that the young country will never forget.
1. Chapter 1: April 10, 1912- Departure

_April 10, 1912_

America pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time as the car pulled up to the port. It was 9:30. He was two and half hours early, though he wasn't really surprised. Knowing England, the older country was probably thrilled to get rid of him.

He glanced at his former caretaker, who sat across from him. Today was a big day for the other country. Not only was he finally getting rid of America, but it was also the beginning of the maiden voyage of the largest, grandest passenger ship in the world (not for long, of course, America would see to that), the supposedly unsinkable _RMS Titanic_.

"Now, I booked you a First Class ticket." England informed him. "Of course, it's my ticket since I get a ticket for the maiden voyage of every ship the White Star Line sends out. I, however, have business to attend to in Scotland, so I have graciously decided to give it to you, not that you know anything about being grateful."

Of course he found a way to take a jab at America's independence. England was still bitter about it, even after almost 136 years. America had to surpress the urge to roll his eyes. He had thought they had moved past that, which is why America had been in London in the first place. Though, he wasn't really surprised. They hadn't brought that whole situation up the entire time they had been in together, and it was America's first official visit to the United Kingdom since Queen Victoria's funeral, so he figured England needed to get it out of his system before the younger country went home.

"So you said." America replied mindlessly. He really wasn't going to give his former caretaker the pleasure of knowing he got under the younger country's skin. "Will France be getting on in Cherbourg?"

"No. Thank God. I don't think I could stand the thought of that perverted old frog stinking up my beautiful new liner." the older country replied. He then added as an afterthought, "And Ireland won't be getting on in Queenstown."

 _Well no duh,_ America thought to himself, _I figured that much out myself._

He wasn't as stupid as England and the other nations thought. He knew the older nation had been having problems with his brother, Ireland. America knew there was no way in Hell that England would let Ireland leave the British Isles, especially when the other nation was pushing for independence.

"So I'll be the only nation on board?" America asked. He was genuinely surprised. He thought with all the hype, more European nations would want to at least get on, even if they got on in Southampton or Cherbourg and off in Queenstown.

"Yes, unless Bulgaria or Croatia decides to get on in Cherbourg, so don't mess this up, git." England replied as he straightened his overcoat. He had to look his best for this, even if he was only seeing both America and the ship off instead of boarding the _Titanic_ himself. "I fully expect you to be on your best behavior. I will not have the statute of secrecy blown on my ship just because you want to act like a bloody fool."

America pulled out a silver flask full of moonshine and took a swig. He knew how much England hated when he drank, especially when it was good old Mountain Dew. He suspected it was only because the Brit was jealous that America could hold his liquor. And because moonshine was also illegal. But America really didn't care what the other thought of him.

He gave his former caretaker a cocky grin as he put the cap back on his flask. It was still mostly full and was more than enough to last him the entire voyage. America wasn't much of a drinker. He only did it to piss England off. "Don't act like a fool. Got it."

England huffed with annoyance. "I swear if you embarrass me in front of the entire British and American upper class-"

America rolled his eyes and cut the other off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it. 'I'm so bloody dead.' Jeeze old man, live a little."

America opened the door to the car and grabbed his trunk. He was a light packer. He didn't see the point of bringing frivolous things like paintings, safes, vehicles, furniture, and whatnot. His philosophy was if it didn't fit in his trunk, it stayed at home.

"Now, are you sure you have everything?" England asked, following him out of the car.

"Positive." America replied as he studied his surroundings. Despite the fact that the ship didn't leave until noon, there were a lot of people already at the port. There was a line of poor looking men, women, and children, most likely immigrants, going through inspection. Servants were carrying luggage to where it needed to go. Men were attaching a car to crane to store it beneath the ship. Sharply dressed men were walking up one of the gangplanks, escorting women with large, extravant hats, the type America only saw on Derby Day. People were crying and bidding their loved ones goodbye. "This really is a big deal, huh?"

"Of course it is. They've built a bloody unsinkable ship, at least that's what the newspapers claim." England replied, extreme amounts of pride filling his voice. The younger country didn't believe for one minute that England, who had sailed on many vessels and experienced many sinkings, actually believed the _Titanic_ was unsinkable. It was virtually impossible to build a ship that couldn't sink. Still, he had heard that many of _Titanic_ 's features made it harder for her to sink. That still didn't make him feel any safer than he had on literally every other ship he had ever been on.

America shrugged. He wasn't going to rain on England's parade by pointing out the physics that argued against the _Titanic_ 's supposed unsinkability. It was against his character to be so pessimistic and he had a reputation to maintain. He also understood the pride nations felt when their people made something impressive, something he felt every time he saw an airplane take off (now there was a way to travel). And _Titanic_ was most definitely impressive, even to someone who had never been a huge fan of ships like America.

It was the largest ship he had ever seen, even bigger than her sister, _Olympic_. He could see why people were amazed. They probably couldn't imagine this thing floating, let alone sailing across the Atlantic. Combine that with the rumors that had been circulating in the press and her grandeur, and it was no wonder that people were in awe. He had heard that the White Star Line was building another even bigger sister, _Gigantic_.

"It's okay." America said indifferently. "I'm more of a plane kind of guy."

England scoffed and mumbled something about "bloody Americans and their infernal new age contraptions." The older country adjusted America's tie, collar, jacket, and hat in order to make him more presentable. America tried, and failed, to push him away. "Remember what I said, git. You're going to be around the wealthy, so it is imperative that you look and act your best, if that's even possible."

America rolled his eyes. The frivolity of the Old World was exactly why he avoided Europe at all costs. All their formalities were so suffocating. He'd rather be out herding cattle on the plains or literally anything else besides worrying about how to properly behave in front of royalty. He wouldn't even be visiting England if it weren't for the fact his boss made him. Something about keeping an eye on Kaiser Wilhelm II, the German Emperor, or something. America didn't even see the point. It's not like Germany was doing anything that was bothering America. Why did he care what some cranky old monarch was up to if it wasn't affecting him?

"You sure I can't change that ticket?" America muttered under his breath. He really didn't want to be around prudish humans who think the world revolved around them because they had money. Besides, it's not like America needed to be in First Class. He'd travelled in steerage before and was perfectly fine with it.

"What was that?" England asked with a piercing look in his emerald eyes.

"Nothing." America replied. "Am I good?"

The older nation looked him over once more before nodding in approval. "I suppose this will do. Though I do wish you'd do something with that infernal cowlick of yours."

America subconsciously reached for Nantucket, only to touch his hat. He had forgotten he was wearing it, but England had insisted. A gentleman never leaves without a hat, he said. America tried to play the moment of forgetfulness of by adjusting Texas.

"Can't you put those blasted things away?" England asked with a scowl. "They're so... so..."

"So what?" America challenged.

"American!" the older nation spat. "You look like a bloody Yank."

The younger nation smirked. "Are you going senile in your old age? In case you've forgetten, I am the United States of America. Besides, I can't get rid of them! Texas herself gave them to me! The Republic, that is."

"I'm sure she would understand if you didn't wear the bloody things for a few days."

America's lip twitched in anger and annoyance. He had to bite down a snappy comeback. Obviously England didn't see the sentimental value behind the glasses. They were one of the few things he had to remember the late Republic of Texas.

America snatched up his trunk and started off to the gangplank where the passengers were boarding. He had half a mind to switch the class on his ticket or just to switch ships altogether, but he decided against it. England was being generous. This was the one of the few gestures of goodwill he received from the other country in a long time. They were making progress in healing their relationship, and America was not about to destroy that by throwing England's generosity back in his face. America could be cruel, but he wasn't that cruel.

England followed him to the ramp. "Well... I guess this is goodbye..."

"Yeah..." America replied awkwardly. What should he say to the guy that had hardly spoken to him in over a century, especially after everything that had happened between them?

England half held out his arms as if he were contemplating a hug, but decided against it. They weren't quite there yet. He finally chose to extend his hand to America.

The younger nation gasped it and shook it. "Thanks for having me... and thanks for arranging this. Um... I'll see you around?"

"Yes, of course." England replied. His voice was calm and collected, but his eyes betrayed the truth. "It was my pleasure. I look forward to working with you in the future."

"Yeah, same." America said. He broke their handshake. "Well, see you!"

"Yes, I'll see you." England mirrored as America gathered his things and started up the gangplank. America was about a quarter of the way up, when he heard the other nation call, "Alfred!"

The younger country turned around. He was taken aback by the usage of his human name. "Yes, Arthur?"

The Brit hesitated. "Do write, please. I'd rather not go another century without hearing from you. And make sure you write when you land in New York so I know you arrived safely.

America flashed him his thousand watt smile. It was entirely genuine for once. "Will do, old man. Bye!"

And with that, America waved at England one last time before bounding up the gangplank and onto the Unsinkable _Titanic_.

* * *

 **I am a major _Titanic_ nerd. I saw the movie in third grade and it inspired me to learn absolutely everything I could about _Titanic_. It was my obsession before geography. I think I still have the Magic Tree House book _Tonight on the Titanic_ and its companion (which is very beat up from so much usage). I am fact checking myself before I post these chapters though. It's been a while since I've read in depth on the _Titanic_.**

 **You'd think there would be a lot more _Titanic_ fics in the Hetalia archive considering it's only the most famous non-war maritime disaster to happen in modern history. I am not including this under _Titanic_ crossover because this is based off the actual historical disaster and not the movie (though I will admit some inspiration on how the ship looks since there aren't many pictures that are easily accessible of the interior of the ship and one line of dialogue in a later chapter was inspired by something said in the movie, but that's it). Jack and Rose do not appear and there is no romance in this story. I will only be referencing famous passengers that everybody knows (i.e. Captain E.J. Smith, the "Unsinkable" Molly Brown, Thomas Andrews, etc.).**

 **Some notes:**

 **Passengers started arriving in Southampton, England around 9:30 a.m. on April 10, 1912 for the _Titanic_ 's maiden voyage.**

 **The Titanic was officially know as the _RMS Titanic_ , RMS standing for Royal Mail Ship, and was owned by the White Star Line.**

 **After leaving Southampton, the _Titanic_ made two stops before heading out to sea. The first stop was Cherbourg, France and the second was Queenstown, Ireland.**

 **Ireland was still part of the U.K. and would be until 1921.**

 **I was going through a list of passengers and I found that there were a lot of Bulgarians and Croats in Third Class (I believe most of the Bulgarians died and most of the Croats did too, I have to double check that). Bulgaria and/or Croatia will not be making an appearance in this story because then I'd have to kill them off (temporarily) since that was the fate of the majority of Third Class men, and men on _Titanic_ in general.**

 **Mountain Dew is slang for moonshine. There's a whole song dedicated to it called "Good Old Mountain Dew." It's a really fun song. I was listening to the Charlie Walker version when I wrote that paragraph (because old country is my jam). The pop, Mountain Dew, was actually invented to be paired with whiskey, which is how it got its name.**

 **One notable piece of _Titanic's_ cargo was a brand new automobile belonging to one of the First Class passengers. The rich brought anything and everything with them. So yes, there is officially a car at the bottom of the ocean. There is also rumors that there was a cursed mummy in _Titanic_ 's cargo.**

 **The _Titanic_ had two sister ships; they were all _Olympic_ class luxury liners. The first was the _RMS Olympic_ , who had been in service for a year before _Titanic_. The other was being built during _Titanic_ 's maiden voyage. She was originally christened the _RMS Gigantic_ , but her name was changed to the _RMS/HMHS Britannic_ after the _Titanic_ 's sinking. The _Olympic_ is the only one of the three sisters that didn't sink, but she had two run-ins with other ships. She was eventually retired and disassembled. The _Britannic_ was converted into a hospital ship and sank during WWI after a run-in with a mine not even a year after her maiden voyage. There was one person that survived sinking of _Titanic_ , the sinking of _Britannic_ , and _Olympic_ 's first collision in 1911. This passenger's name was Violet Jessop, who was a stewardess on all three ships and later a nurse on _Britannic._**

 **At the time _Titanic_ sank, Germany was ruled by Kaiser Wilhelm II. Kaiser Wilhelm II is part of the reason WWI ended up the way it did because he thought it was a good idea to use Austria's beef with Serbia to attack France because Triple Alliance (even though Italy betrayed that) and other reasons, which drew in the U.K. and Russia (though Russia was already kind of involved because of Serbia). **

**"Steerage** **" is what Third Class was referred to. It was made up of mainly immigrants, which is why they had to go through inspection before they were allowed on the _Titanic_. If they didn't pass Ellis Island's standards, the White Star Line had to take them back to Europe on the _Titanic_ , which was something they didn't want to do. Not all Third Class were immigrants though.**


	2. Chapter 2: April 10, 1912- Evening

_April 10, 1912_

The _Titanic_ left the port at Southampton at noon, narrowly avoiding an accident with the _SS City of New York_ just a few minutes after setting off. That did absolutely nothing to ease America's nerves, which had flared as soon as he stepped on the ship and was greeted by Captain E.J. Smith. Something told America that this was not going to be a good trip. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to get off _Titanic_ while he still could. The narrow collision with the smaller ship, which delayed the departure, seemed like a bad omen.

After the chaos had passed and _Titanic_ had finally gotten on her way, America settled down in his stateroom, barely bothering to unpack. He was truly amazed at the accommodations. He had so much space that it seemed wasteful. And he had one of the smaller first class cabins located on A-Deck. He could only imagine how ridiculously spacious the larger first class cabins on the other decks were.

"Honestly England," he muttered to himself, "I would have been okay with Second or Third Class. This is really too much."

He understood that in a way, England was trying to impress him, otherwise America would not be in a First Class room on the maiden voyage of _Titanic_ , the grandest ship in the world, at least until America got around to building a better ship. Still, America, despite being raised by one of the largest empires in the world, was never comfortable with over-the-top grandeur. He preferred simplicity. After all, grandeur didn't help people survive harsh winters on the plains or deadly diseases or starvation that homesteaders often faced.

"So what to do?" America wondered out loud. He had literally no idea what activities were on the luxury cruise liner. He normally travelled on military ships or other non-luxurious ships when he had to go someplace overseas. It was one of the reasons he was so excited about planes. He wasn't a fan of ships, despite being raised by England, who loved everything about being on the wide open sea. "I suppose I should write to Canada. Maybe see if we can meet up."

He had hardly seen Canada since they signed the Treaty of Ghent after the War of 1812. And when they did run into each other, they could barely stand to be in the same room because of all the awkwardness and unspoken problems between them. Burning each other's capitals tended to have that effect. Maybe it was time to change that. After all, they were literally neighbors. They should at least be on speaking terms with each other.

America left his suite with some paper, an envelope, and a fountain pen, locking the door behind him. He didn't have anything expensive in there, but he did have some documents that weren't meant for the eyes of prying humans. The last thing he needed was to get in trouble with his boss and the other nations for exposing their secret to the world by accident.

He headed down the passage way towards the reading and writing room, which was reserved for First Class passengers as a library of sorts. It was a quiet place where he could sit down and write a letter to his brother. While it was probably a place that was going to be full of women, America didn't mind. As long as it was quiet.

On his way there, he passed the smoking room and made a note of it so he knew where it was if he felt like getting a drink or having a smoke later. He continued walking until he came to a huge, elegant grand staircase. America let out a low whistle. "They really went all out, didn't they?"

A magnificent dome covered the area, allowing sunlight to just flood down on the staircase. There were several flights of stairs that went all the way down to the bottom of the ship where the swimming pool was located. The central landing nearest to America had a beautiful clock with "Honour and Glory crowning Time" engraved into it. Cherub statues stood below the clock. There was also a piano up on the Boat Deck level. The grand staircase was easily the most beautiful room the nation had ever been in.

America continued on his way making his way to the port side of the ship. He eventually came upon his destination. As predicted, there were mainly women in the reading and writing room. America went towards a writing desk so he had a flat surface to compose his letter on. The room, like everything he had seen on Titanic, was over-the-top. It had windows that were eleven feet high, crystal chandeliers, and silk upholstered chairs.

" _Dear Canada..."_ he began. He scratched it out. "No, he's my brother. I shouldn't call him that. But I can't call him by a nickname."

 _"Dear Matthew,"_ he wrote in neat cursive. That was much better. He decided to use his best penmanship for this. This was going to be the most important and one of the hardest letters he ever had to write in his life. He wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect. Despite what the others thought, he did care about little details like neatness. " _I know it has been a long time, nearly a century, since we last talked. Our last conversation was not exactly friendly, but I was hoping we could meet sometime face-to-face. I am not expecting you to apologize for 1814 nor am I planning on apologizing for my actions during that war, but I was at least hoping we could sit down and talk. We both did things we regret, at least I know I did, and we both had our own justifications for our actions. It will take much more than one conversation to repair the damage in our relationship, I know, but I would like to work on fixing our bond. A century is long enough to not speak. If not for me, then do it for your nieces and nephews. I have forty-seven states now, the most recent being little New Mexico. I would introduce the rest to you in this letter, but I don't have enough paper. Besides, it would be better for you to meet them in person. I know my oldest ones miss seeing you, and they ask about you often. And the younger ones would like to get to know their uncle. So please, consider sitting down with me for their sake. I look forward to hearing from you. Please send your response to my address in Virginia, which I have written as the return address. I look forward to hearing from you. Yours Truly, Alfred F. Jones, The United States of America."_

He signed his name with a flourish and studied his work. It wasn't the best, he knew, but it was better than nothing. He carefully folded the letter and stuffed it into the envelope he brought. He addressed it to Canada's residence in Ottawa, double checking to make sure it was the right address before he sealed it. He didn't want to accidentally send it to some random human. He quickly put his return address in the upper left hand corner and put the proper postage on it. "Maybe I should wait until I get home to send it, see if the boss will let me use the 'Great Seal of the United States.'"

A bugle sounded off, indicating that it was time for dinner. America glanced at his pocket watch. It was 5:30. He had spent four hours writing a letter to Canada.

America pocketed his letter and got up to go get ready for dinner. As much as he despised wearing suits, he had a feeling he was going to have to wear one to dinner. Luckily, he had brought one with him since he knew how much of a stickler England was for dressing up when dining with royalty, which America was forced to suffer through during his diplomatic visit.

At least they were almost in Cherbourg, which meant they should arrive in Queenstown in the morning. They were almost out in the Atlantic, which meant to America that he was almost home.

The sooner he got off this ship, the better.

* * *

 **If only America knew how on point his bad feeling was, especially after that *excellent* start to _Titanic'_ s maiden voyage. I guess he'll find out soon enough.**

 **So, I didn't explain this in the first chapter, but _A Night to Remember_ , the title, comes from a 1958 movie with the same name. It was the famous _Titanic_ movie before James Cameron's _Titanic._ It just focuses on the _Titanic_ 's final night. It's also a book, and the movie is based on the book.**

 **Oh, I guess I didn't clarify which Ireland that England and America were talking about. The later Republic of Ireland, though Northern Ireland won't be appearing either. Just America. It's much easier for me to focus that way.**

 **I was going to just skip ahead to the day of the sinking, but since we have America here all by himself, why not explore his personality and focus on world events of the time? Let's see how 1912 America, after being away from Europe for so long, really feels before he becomes a superpower.**

 **Some notes:**

 **The _Titanic_ began her maiden voyage at noon on April 10, 1912 from Southampton, England.**

 **As the _Titanic_ was leaving Southampton, another ship, the _SS City of New York,_ that was docked nearby broke free from its line and almost collided with _Titanic_ , a great start to any voyage obviously. The _Titanic_ 's departure was delayed half an hour. Perhaps it was an omen of what was to come? Regardless, if _Titanic_ and the _New York_ had collided, there is a chance that _Titanic_ wouldn't have met her demise just days later.**

 **First Class passengers were greeted by Captain Smith when they boarded in Southampton.**

 **The Treaty of Ghent is the treaty that ended the War of 1812.**

 **First Class passengers had access to a smoking room and a reading and writing room. They also had ridiculously large rooms. A-Deck had the smaller rooms for not as rich people. The bigger rooms were for the ridiculously rich. They also had access to a swimming pool, which was on F-Deck. And of course everybody knows about _Titanic_ 's famous grand staircase. The beautiful grand staircases were the main features of First Class on all three the _Olympic_ Class liners, though _Britannic_ 's never got to be appreciated because she was put right to use for the war and never survived to transport passengers as a luxury liner. There are no photos of _Titanic_ 's grand staircase, and all depictions of it that you see in the movies are based off the _Olympic_ 's grand staircase.**

 **The smoking room was for men only. It's were they went to smoke, drink alcohol, and gamble. The reading and writing room was mainly used by women but men could use it too.**

 **America only had 47 states when _Titanic_ sank. New Mexico was added in January of 1912. Arizona wouldn't be added until 1914.**

 **Dinner for First Class passengers was served from 6 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. They actually played a bugle at 5:30 to let passengers know to go get ready for dinner.**

 **The Titanic arrived in Cherbourg, France around 7 p.m. on April 10th. It then arrived in Queenstown, Ireland at 11:30 a.m. on April 11th. Queenstown would be the last time anyone not on board the Titanic ever saw her. Titanic headed out to the Atlantic at 1:30 p.m. on April 11, 1912.**


	3. Chapter 3: April 11, 1912- Morning

_April 11, 1912_

America sat in the First Class Dining Saloon, sipping his coffee and composing a letter to France. He had received a letter from the older nation after _Titanic_ had left Cherbourg. France had paid one of the stewards to personally deliver it.

"Is this seat taken?" somebody asked. America glanced up and noticed a man standing there with his arm around a pretty young woman. It was his wife, of America had to guess. They were both Americans, something the nation could easily discern. He could automatically tell if someone was his just by looking at them.

"No, please." America replied.

The man helped his young wife sit down before taking the seat next to her. He extended his arm to America. "John Jacob Astor. This is my wife, Madeleine."

Mrs. Astor smiled at the nation and waved. America flashed the two a quick smile. "Alfred F. Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

He knew of the Astor family. J.J. Astor was easily the richest man on the ship. He and his wife had been on their honeymoon, and now it appeared that they were on their way home. Mrs. Astor's hand rested comfortably over her stomach, indicating that she was in a delicate condition.

"What brings a young man like yourself on _Titanic_ , Mr. Jones?" Astor asked politely.

"Alfred, please. I was visiting my brother in London. He insisted that I travel back home on _Titanic_ since he wasn't able to travel on her himself."

"Your brother?"

"Commodore Arthur Kirkland." America replied. "Or is he Major-General? I can't remember. Anyway, he was extremely disappointed that he couldn't accompany _Titanic_ on her maiden voyage, so I'm here in his steed."

"So you are traveling alone?" Mrs. Astor inquired.

"Yes. I was surprised that some of my European colleagues didn't book a ticket. _Titanic_ is right up their alley."

Austria and France, especially, would enjoy her. They both had an appreciation of fine things like _Titanic._ Austria was probably too busy trying to keep control in his empire. Nationalist movement were on a rise in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, last America heard. Austria was also trying to take control of the Balkans, something that Russia and his ally/cousin Serbia were none too pleased with. The Balkans were just a huge mess. America didn't see the point in getting involved there.

France, on the other hand, claimed that he was too busy keeping an eye on Germany, who he distrusted since he first met the young country in 1871. America suspected that France was not fond of Germany because of how Prussia embarrassed him during the last war of German Unification. He also had a feeling that what Prussia did would come to bite Germany in the behind, even though poor Germany had nothing to do with his brother's actions, especially so if war were to break out. The tension in Europe was so thick that it could be cut with a butter knife. The bonds that held Europe together were so fragile and tangled, it wouldn't take much for the whole continent to dissolve into chaos.

America sympathized with Germany because it was hard to be the new nation and have to put up with the Old World's customs and bloody politics. But Germany was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He had his brothers to guide him. He also had that alliance with Austria and Italy if something were to happen, though Italy seemed kind of flighty lately. America had heard rumors that the Romance nation was pestering Austria about some land. And his brother, Romano, seemed weary of Germany, at least that's what America got when he last talked to the older brother.

"Then I insist you dine with my wife and I tonight." Astor told America. America wasn't sure why Astor was inviting him to dine with them. They had only just met literally five minutes ago. Then again, maybe Astor felt drawn to America. That was normally how citizens reacted to meeting their county.

"Thank you, but I have a ton of paperwork to do. My boss gets on my case if I fall behind on it." America replied. It was true he really should do his paperwork. While President Taft wasn't too strict with America, the man didn't even really care for being president after all, he still got upset if the nation didn't keep up on his work.

"Nonsense. Paperwork can wait." Mrs. Astor said pleasantly. "We would enjoy it if you could dine with us."

America knew better than to get too involved with humans. It only ended in disaster. Nations were horrible at time keeping and humans had too little of it. There were days when America thought of something that Benjamin Franklin would have found hilarious and went to tell the founding father, only to remember that Franklin had been dead for over a century. It was also dangerous for humans. They often lost their sense of time if they stayed around nations for too long, which pretty much destroyed them.

"I appreciate the offer, really I do, but-"

"Then what's holding you back from accepting it?" Astor inquired.

"Nothing." America lied. "I would love to join you both for dinner. Thank you for the invitation."

"Excellent! We'll see you at six thirty then."

America groaned internally. He was sure the Astors would not be the only ones dining with him. He was not at all thrilled to be dining with the social elites. They would nose in his business, trying to figure out if he was one of them. And he had a feeling they wouldn't like him much. He might be old, but he wasn't old money.

Yes, he had money. How could he not? He was the United States of America. But he didn't go around flaunting it around. He wasn't that superficial, despite the fact that's what other nations thought of him. After all, the majority of his people were simple, humble people. Yes, more and more of them were living in urban areas and earning more money, but most of them were still self-sufficient, hardworking people that didn't have much to their names.

The people he would be dining with later in the evening probably didn't know the value of a dollar the way the lower social classes did. America didn't really understand the allure in pretending that the world owed them. He didn't see the allure in spending on foolish things. In fact, he knew people who would kill for a dime to buy a loaf of bread, and here these people were spending thousands of dollars on silly things like paintings and clothes and jewels.

 _I knew I should have switched classes._ he thought to himself.

" _Dear Francis,_ " he wrote on a fresh sheet of paper. He decided he would enclose two letters: one an official response and one personal. " _How on Earth do you put up with all the frivolity of the upper class? All the foolish wastefulness... Don't these people realize some people are out on the streets starving to death? I've seen people work themselves to death in factories and mines for nothing, and here the rich are acting like the world owes them. It's not like their money is going to save them from death. How do you deal with it? Doesn't it drive you insane to see most of your people suffer while a select few act so high and mighty? Here I am on Titanic in First Class, and I can't stand it. I mean, I'm grateful that Arthur arranged this, despite what he thinks, but I can't stand such shallow people. I would have been absolutely fine with Second Class or even Third Class, but he insisted I travel First, even though he knows I don't enjoy the company of the rich and powerful. I don't really understand why he was so insistent on it._

 _"Anyway, Titanic is absolutely marvelous. I can't help but think that you would enjoy her. Perhaps next time you come to my place, you can travel on her. She's right up your alley, and Rodreich's too. If you see him, tell him I told you that. The papers say God himself cannot sink her, but I don't know about that. Ever since stepping foot on her, I can't help but feel uneasy. In Southampton, every part of me was screaming to get off while I still can. Even now, as she gets close to Queenstown, something is telling me to get off. I don't know if it is my dislike of sea travel or what. I just have a bad feeling. It's the same feeling I had before I went to the theater with my boss in 1865, and look what happened there. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Anyway, I have enclosed my response to your letter. I hope to hear from you soon. Please send all further correspondence to my residence in Virginia. Yours Truly, Alfred. P.S. Do you by any chance have Mattie's (Canada's) address? If you do, could you please forward it to me? Thanks!"_

He quickly pulled out his pocket watch and saw that it was 9:30. He quickly put his letters into an envelope and addressed it to France and put the proper postage on it. They hadn't yet reached Queenstown, and if he got to the mail room in time, he could make sure that he sent it to the other country. He decided to hold off on his letter to Canada though, since he wasn't quite sure of the address.

"It was a pleasure meeting you both." America told the Astors. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get this to the mail room before we reach Queenstown."

* * *

 **I saw another fic that called England "Commodre" and I thought it suited him perfectly. I must have forgotten about Canada's interactions with America in canon after 1812, but thanks to the guest reviewer who pointed it out. It's not that important.**

 **I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story! Your reviews mean so much to me. These chapters until April 14th are just filler. It allows me to have America interact with famous passengers and explore some of his personality before he gets put through Hell. Perhaps we can get him to change his mind on the rich before it's all said and done.**

 **You guys are probably going to get tired of America's ominous feelings and his thoughts on the upper classes being continually brought up, but they will resolve themselves in the end, trust me. Both of these aspects of the story drive his actions and thoughts on _Titanic_.**

 **America dines with the social elites next chapter and we get a little bit of a look into what he was up to during the 19th century.**

 **Some notes:**

 **John Jacob Astor IV was the richest man on _Titanic,_ and one of richest men in the world at the time. He and his new wife, Madeleine, were returning from their honeymoon in Egypt. Mrs. Astor was pregnant. She and the baby survived, but J.J. Astor did not. His body was later found by the CS _Mackay-Bennett_ when it went on its body retrieval mission. It truly goes to show how much money really matters in the end. The Astors' conversation with America here is completely fictionalized.**

 ** _Titanic_ carried and delivered mail between her stops.**

 **So, Austria at the time was dealing with a surge of Slavic Nationalism, especially from the Serbs within the empire (that would later become a problem for Archduke Franz Ferdinand, if you talked about WWI in school, you know why). Austria was also trying to expand in the Balkans, which at the time was suffering from the second Balkan War (Serbia and Greece against Bulgaria). Austria did not help matters in the Balkans and made problems worse. Russia and Serbia (who were allies) also weren't too happy with Austria's meddling in the Balkans. It was just trouble waiting to happen and was part of the reason Europe was so politically unstable. World War could have literally broken out at anytime.**

 **Germany was unified in 1871 by Otto von Bismarck, a Prussian who made the Prussian king the Kaiser. There were three wars of German Unification. The third one later came back to bite Germany's butt. Basically Prussia went to war with France over Alsace and Lorraine. Prussia won, gaining the two territories. Germany was officially unified and created in the Palace of Versailles, a major embarrassment for France. France never forgot that embarrassment, and that's why Germany was so harshly punished for WWI.**

 **The Triple Alliance was Germany's alliance with Austria and Italy. It is the reason Germany got involved in WWI in the first place. Italy was supposed to join too, but they didn't because they wanted some Austrian land and Austria said no. So, when England offered to give Italy the land it wanted, they joined the Allies. Italy basically stabbed Germany in the back over a petty land dispute with Austria. Keep that in mind, GerIta fans.**

 **By the way, Italy when mentioned is always North Italy in my stories. In canon, every character, except Romano, refers to Veneziano as Italy. I've had some reviewers on other stories go, "Why is he being called Italy? That's not fair to Romano!" Because America knows him as Italy, that's why.**

 **William Howard Taft was President of the United States when _Titanic_ sank. He was one that did not enjoy being president, according to my government teacher. He later became Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the only president to serve both the executive and judicial branches. He enjoyed being a Supreme Court Justice much more than being president.**

 **Breakfast was served between 8 a.m. and 10 a.m., so they would have had breakfast before the ship stopped in Queenstown.**


	4. Chapter 4: April 11, 1912- Evening

_April 11, 1912_

America scowled in the mirror as he adjusted his cravet. He despised suits. He despised the stifling formalities of the Old World. He despised it all.

After breakfast, his day had been mostly boring. He spent some time exploring the ship, finding the gym, the Turkish baths, and the Squash Courts, but none of that interested him. He ended up in the First Class lounge and reread _Tom Sawyer_.

At five thirty, with the sound of the bugle, he decided it was time to go put on his formal dinner wear. God only knew who would be dining with them. And, he remembered, England told him to be on his best behavior. America didn't really want to deal with listening to the other country complain if word got back to him about America's less than impressive appearance. Someone was bound to know England.

He removed Texas and went to clean them. He smiled fondly as he remembered the day his late wife gave them to him. She laughed and told him that they should prevent him from walking into walls. They were fake of course, but it was a little joke between them. Now, he never went anywhere without them. He couldn't bare to part with them because it was like having a piece of her with him. If he left them behind, then he left her behind, and he couldn't bare to do that.

He picked up his paperwork and skimmed all the legal paragraphs. The words were kind of blurry and he had to squint to make them out. He chuckled as he sat them aside. "Looks like I might have to be getting some actual glasses, Esmeralda. You always told me I was blind as a bat. Maybe you're right. Then again, when weren't you right?"

He smoothed out his shirt as he thought back fondly on his time with Texas. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and not just physically. She was wild and free. She lived life to the fullest and loved with a passion. She was the only woman he ever truly loved.

"God, I miss you, Tex." he told her, if she was even out there listening. He didn't think she was a ghost, if there were such a thing as ghosts. She had told him to let her go. She told him how she wanted him to love another and continue living without her. She said he would be dishonoring her if he didn't. Despite being a supposedly immortal nation, she embraced her fate and accepted her death with open arms.

Still, his world shattered when she died. She was never supposed to die. To watch another nation die and know that they wouldn't revive, it was completely and utterly terrifying. Humans died forever, nations didn't. Loving another nation was supposed to be safer than loving a human.

When she died, he changed. He lost his carefree attitude. He became more cynical of humanity's actions and the actions of other nations. He started putting on his clueless idiot mask to hide his hurt. Nobody had been there when he needed them, so why should they see the real America? Why should he pretended like he cared? He wrote England and France when she died, but their responses were dismissive. It happens, they said. You should have known better, they told him. You need to move on, they replied.

He knew they were right, of course. They were looking at it from a nation's perspective and trying to tell him to not get consumed by human emotions. They were only trying to protect him from himself in their own little way. They knew if they gave into his grief, then he would never move on. It still stung though, and it did nothing to ease his grief. If he hadn't had his states, including the State of Texas, their son together, he would have gone insane. He wasn't able to let his grief consume him for their sakes.

"Enough, Alfred." he scolded himself as he wiped away the tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He glared at his reflection. "That's enough of that. It's in the past. There's nothing you can do to bring her back, and even if there was a way to revive her, you wouldn't because you know she's in a better place. You're on _Titanic_ , the grandest ship in the world, about to have dinner with the British and American social elite. You need to focus on that. Esmeralda would want you to."

He replaced his glasses and smoothed out his clothes one more time. Once he was absolutely sure he was presentable enough, America left his room and headed to the dining saloon.

Several people were out and about in their evening dress. The men all wore suits like America. The women wore lavish evening dresses in a variety of colors.

 _Thank God I'm not a woman._ America thought to himself. _I can barely stand changing once. I can't imagine having to do it several times a day._

"Mr. Jones." a woman greeted as America came to the clock on the grand staircase. It was Margaret Brown, a Denver socialite.

"Mrs. Brown." America replied kindly. He had met her while exploring the ship. Like so many of his people, she felt drawn to him. And surprisingly, he found he rather liked her more than just the extent of her being one of his citizens. She didn't seem to be as stuck up as some of the other millionaires he had met.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner?" she asked.

"It would be my pleasure." He carefully grabbed her arm and continued down the steps.

"You're the talk of the ship, you know." she informed him. America was taken aback. "Well don't be so surprised. A handsome young man like yourself, I'd be worried if they weren't talking about you. Rumor has it that you're here by yourself."

"I am." he confirmed. "My older brother is trying to impress me, I believe. He had a First Class ticket, but couldn't make it because of business. He thought it was the perfect opportunity to show off when I wrote him last year to let him know I would be visiting."

"What do you mean by that?" she inquired.

Americ shrugged. "He knows that I'm not a fan of over-the-top. I would have been fine with Second Class or even steerage, but he insisted. The only reason he would insist on something like that is if he were trying to impress me. Besides, he knows how much I dislike sea travel. I think he's trying to get me to change my mind and stop putting 'ridiculous' hope in those 'infernal flying deathtraps,' as he calls them."

They soon came upon the table where the Astors were sitting, along with a bunch of other passengers, just as America suspected. The nation pulled out Mrs. Brown's chair for her before taking his own seat. Astor finally noticed him. "Ah, Alfred. I'm glad you could join us. Gentleman, ladies, this is Alfred Jones."

America greeted them kindly, flashing them one of his fake polite smiles. He really wanted to be back in his room. He'd rather do his work than wine and dine with the wealthy.

Dinner was more like an interrogation. Everybody wanted to know everything about him.

"Where are you from, Mr. Jones?" an older bearded gentleman asked. America recognized him as Isidor Strauss, one of the co-owners of Macy's and former Congressman from New York.

"All over." America replied. "Huston, D.C., Chicago, New Orleans, New York, Denver, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and Boston, among other places. I'm heading to Virginia as soon as we dock in New York."

He couldn't exactly tell them he had been born around a Swedish colonial settlement in the early 1600's. Nor could he tell them that he had residences in every state. But he had lived in those cities and was heading to Virginia, so he didn't lie completely.

"Do you have a special girl?" one woman asked. Her voice was somewhat hopeful, probably because she was hoping that he would say no, if America had to guess.

America gritted his teeth. "My wife is from Texas. She didn't come with me to London because business bores her."

Not a complete lie. He just omitted the part about his wife being dead. He didn't really feel like being seduced by these women. Hopefully if he said he was married, then they would leave him alone.

"Do you and your wife have any children?" The same woman asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"A son." he replied. That was the truth, though his Texas was no longer a baby like they probably assumed. He was around thirteen physically and still growing rapidly. He did have a baby though: New Mexico, who was born in January. "He's just like her: same eyes, same hair, same personality. Though I've been told he gets his stubbornness from me. I don't know where Francis got that idea from."

The rest of the table laughed. America smiled in spite of himself. He always enjoyed talking about his states, even if he omitted the fact that he actually had forty-seven children. He had a feeling though some of the things he was saying would come back to bite him, especially if England heard about them. He would of course confront America to demand answers if he heard the younger country was married with children. Maybe he should have told England about his states while he had the chance...

"So you're in the oil business, then?" a man asked.

America was taken aback. What did he say that indicated he was in the oil business? "Excuse me?"

"You said you have lived in Texas, so I'm assuming you got in on some of the black gold down there."

"You could say that." America said hesitantly. He had dealt with oil among other things, though there were more ways to make money in Texas besides oil, and there were more places to get oil in his country than just Texas. "I'm more on the political side of the oil industry. I also deal with all sorts of things: diplomacy, the auto industry, aviation, mining, the agricultural sector, Wall Street, and a lot more that I can't begin to think of. You could say that I'm a jack of all trades of sorts."

A look of distaste flashed across the face of an older woman sitting across from him. Obviously that wasn't the answer anyone wanted to hear. They didn't want to hear that a "jack of all trades" was dining with money.

"So what you're saying is that you can't hold down a job?" the woman across from him asked.

America gritted his teeth. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the woman off. He had probably worked a lot harder in a day than she ever did in her entire life. Somehow, he kept his cool. "No, I said I work in politics. I just handle a variety of topics."

The silence that followed was awkward, more awkward than when he had to face England in order to sign the Treaty of Paris. Finally, one of the men got up. "Ladies, thank you for your company."

The rest of the men followed in suit. America took that as a signal to get up and leave himself. Though the men were most likely going to the smoking room to smoke cigars and drink brandy, America had work to do. Besides, he didn't really want to hear a bunch of grown men gloat about how rich they were in order to outdo each other.

America left the dining saloon and headed back to his room to the mountain of paperwork awaiting him. On the way, he stopped a steward and asked to have some brandy sent to his room, tipping the man for his trouble. After putting up with that insufferable interrogation, he felt like he deserved a drink.

* * *

 **America and the Republic of Texas, a tragic love story, at least in my headcanon. Will I write their story one day? Maybe. I'd have to do a lot of research because it will of course be a historical fic if I do. I wrote this chapter while listening to Conway Twitty and Hank Williams, so of course I had to write about America's heartbreak.**

 **America's very good at lying by omission, isn't he? By the way, a jack of all trades is the master of none, so the saying goes.** **That's why the random woman (no passenger in particular) thought he couldn't hold down a job.**

 **Sorry about grammar/spelling/wording mistakes. I'm typing this on my phone, which likes to a) assume it knows what I'm thinking or b) autocorrect what I want it to say into something completely different. If you see any errors, let me know. I'm trying to go back and catch them, but I don't always find them.**

 **Some notes:**

 **Dinner in the upper classes was a very formal occasion. Men put on their suits and women put on elegant evening dresses. An upper class woman would change serval times a day.**

 **Margaret Brown, a Denver millionairess, socialite, and philanthropist, was one of _Titanic_ 's most famous passengers. Despite what the movie says, her friends called her Maggie, not Molly, something she wouldn't be called until after her death. History knows her as the Unsinkable Molly Brown, a nickname she earned the night of the sinking because of her taking charge to help with evacuation. She got passengers into the lifeboats and took an oar herself, something that would have been uncommon for a woman of the time to do. She tried to encourage the people in her lifeboat, mainly women, to go back and gather survivors right after _Titanic_ sank below the waves, you know, before everyone died of hypothemia/drowning. She also threatened to throw the officer in charge of her lifeboat overboard after he refused to go back. That's also something the movie got wrong. She was actually traveling in Egypt with the Astors before boarding _Titanic_. Her dialogue here is fictional.**

 **Isidor Strauss and his wife, Ida, were returning from a European vacation. He was one of the owners of Macy's department store and was a former Representative from New York. There's more to his story, but I'll save it for later because I want to include it in this story. His dialogue here is fictional.**

 **The Treaty of Paris ended the American Revolution. It must have been an extremely awkward affair. If you look at any paintings of the signing of the Treaty, they're only half complete. The English delegation refused to be painted signing the Treaty because of how much of an embarrassment America's indepdence was. The most powerful empire in the world had essentially lost a war and a valuable colony to a bunch of farmers (not all Revolution soldiers were farmers, it's just an expression).**


	5. Chapter 5: April 14, 1912- Lunch

_April 14, 1912_

Sixteen lifeboats. That was all the lifeboats the _Titanic_ possessed. Twenty, if the four collapsibles were counted. The _Titanic_ had a capacity of 3,500 people. That number of life boats couldn't even hold half. Unsinkable ship or not, having twenty lifeboats was a very stupid decision for a ship of her capacity.

But America didn't say that out loud. Instead, he and the rest of the table listened as a man with a very impressive handlebar mustache told them exactly what he thought of the lifeboats. His name was J. Bruce Ismay. "They're a waste of space, which is why I had them cut down. Mr. Andrews wanted to include enough for maximum capacity, but I told him that we didn't need them."

"God himself cannot sink this ship, so I don't see why we would need any lifeboats at all." another passenger added.

America snorted, nearly spitting out his coffee in the process. He couldn't believe how many times he had heard that since he first heard of _Titanic._ The table turned to him. He just smiled coyly and sat down his coffee cup. "In my experience, I've found that God does not like a challenge. If you dare to make statements like that, I can most definitely assure you that He will answer."

"And what experience would that be, pray tell, Mr. Jones?" Ismay asked.

A dark look flickered in America's normally bright sky colored eyes. _If only you knew,_ he thought darkly. But he chose to hold his tongue.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." he said instead, before flashing one of his thousand watt smiles. He was an expert at putting on a mask to hide his true feelings. How else could have survived in the world?

He had been putting his mask up a lot over the past since he boarded. These rich people, as egotistical and oblivious as they seemed, were far too nosy for their own good. They wanted to know everything about him. Where was he from? Who was his family? How did he, a mere boy of nineteen, land a first class ticket on _Titanic_? They were intriged by the mysterious stranger among them.

He was actually glad for the church service. He wasn't particularly religious, but it allowed him to escape the stares and intrusive questions. On top of that, he had received a telegram from Pennsylvania. He slid it out of his coat pocket and read it again. "Everything ok at home STOP We all miss you STOP See you soon STOP Will catch you up on news STOP"

He smiled at the telegram fondly. The one thing he hated about foreign trips was leaving his states behind. Normally, he took one of his older ones with him, but he decided not to this time. He supposed it was because he didn't quite trust England with that information yet. They only just started speaking on friendly terms again even though they had been trading for decades. He didn't think saying, "Oh yeah, I'm glad where're getting along again. Hey, by the way, you have forty-seven nieces and nephews." would go over too well.

"-fred." America looked up from the telegram at the man addressing him. It was Major Archibald Butt. He looked vaguely familiar, but America couldn't place him. Did he work for his boss?

"I'm sorry." the nation said with an apologetic grin. "You were saying?"

"I was wondering what is so important to read that you lost focus on the conversation."

"Huh? Oh, it was just a telegram I received from a family member." he replied absentmindedly. These people were way too nosy for their own good. "Nothing important."

He quickly stuck the telegram in his pocket. Major Butt studied him carefully. America tried to play it cool. The Major obviously recognized him from someplace. It was best not to arouse suspicion by doing anything out of the ordinary.

"Now as I was saying, is it true that the Captain has received ice warnings."

"Several." another man replied.

"And the Captain isn't heeding the warnings? I mean, the ship hasn't slowed. In fact, I believe she's going full speed. If there are bergs in an area, shouldn't Captain Smith slow the ship?" America asked suspiciously. For the seasoned Captain, who was actually going to retire when the _Titanic_ returned to England, ignoring berg warns from other ships in the North Atlantic in the middle of April seemed like a very stupid move. Even America knew that with his very limited knowledge of naval procedures and protocols.

The men at the table laughed as if he had just told a joke. The man sitting next to America clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Ah, to be young and naïve. The bloody ship can't sink! Her watertight doors will prevent that. How many filled compartments can she stay afloat with again?"

"Four. She can stay afloat with water four watertight compartments filled." somebody answered. "Besides, we already know she's unsinkable. Now we want new headlines. Keep the _Titanic_ as the talk of the town. Let the world marvel at her speed."

Something about that didn't sit well with America. These people were putting a lot of blind faith in a piece of floating metal that weighed a couple tons. America found that when people put blind faith in something, it often failed them.

Something about the _Titanic_ making headlines also made him feel uneasy. Just because something made headlines, it didn't mean it was a necessarily good thing. After all, he could still remember the headlines from April 15, 1865, a day away from exactly forty-seven years before.

He could only hope that it went the way everyone hoped it would. After all, America shuddered to think about the outcome of something were to happen. Four watertight compartments wasn't a lot of wiggle room between staying afloat and going down to the bottom of the Atlantic if she were to cross paths with an iceberg. Combine that with the low number of lifeboats and the high capacity on board, it could be a really bad situation.

 _Maybe I'm just paranoid_ , America thought as he picked up his coffee again. _I'm sure everything will be alright. I'm just overthinking it. I've got to stop staying up so late working. Two hours of sleep is starting to go to my head._

America slid out a cigarette and lit it. Cigarettes, brandy, and what was left of his moonshine were the only things keeping him sane. He knew he was reverting to his bad habits because of nerves. No matter what he did, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. If anything, his nerves kept getting worse. It was like his instincts were trying to tell him something.

* * *

 **I decided to skip ahead. There wasn't much that happened on _Titanic_ April 12th and 13th. I tried to write April 12th, but it just seemed so boring. And I was having a hard time writing it. So we're up to the day of the sinking.**

 **Some notes:**

 **The _Titanic_ carried only sixteen lifeboats for her maximum 3,500 capacity, twenty if the four collapsibles are added in, so not even enough for half. There were around 2,200 people on board, so people were bound to die regardless unless another ship would have gotten there in time (more on that later). Thomas Andrews wanted to add more lifeboats, but he was vetoed on the idea because they were seen as a waste of deck space as the ship was "unsinkable." Hindsight is always 20/20.**

 **J. Bruce Ismay was the chairman of the White Star Line. He was the one who authorized the reduction of life boats from 48 to 16. He was also the highest ranking White Star Line employee to survive the sinking. It was very controversial because Captain Smith, Thomas Andrews, most of the crew, and even the band (who weren't even White Star Line employees) all went down with _Titanic._ His dialogue here is fictional.**

 **There was a church service the morning of April 14, 1912 at 11 a.m. for First Class passengers. It was held in the First Class dining saloon.**

 **The _Titanic_ 's radio operators were swamped with sending out and receiving passengers' telegrams. It became a problem later in the evening when another ship sent out a warning and one of the _Titanic_ 's radio operators responded with, "Shut up, I'm working" (more on that later).**

 **Major Archibald Butt served President Theodore Roosevelt and President Taft. That's where America vaguely recognizes him from. He was returning from vacation in Europe, traveling First Class. He died in the sinking and his body was never recovered. He is rumored to have helped with loading the lifeboats and preventing men from boarding them. His dialogue here is fictional.**

 **Telegrams had "STOP" in place of a period.**

 **The _Titanic_ was receiving ice warnings from other ships in the area all day on April 14th. They were all pretty much ignored and the one that could have convinced Captain Smith to stop for the night didn't even make it to his hands. Remember, the _Titanic_ 's radio operators were busy sending and receiving telegrams for the passengers. On the day of the collision, _Titanic_ was going full speed despite the ice warnings.**

 **Captain Edward J. Smith had years of experience before _Titanic_ even set sail. He even captained the Olympic. He was set to retire at the end of _Titanic_ 's maiden voyage. **

**The reason _Titanic_ was considered unsinkable, was because of her watertight compartments. There was a total of sixteen of them. They could be sealed by automated watertight doors in the event of emergency. She could stay afloat with four watertight compartments filled. Obviously, they didn't imagine what would happen if five of them filled up. Again, hindsight is 20/20.**

 **Forty-seven years before the sinking of the _Titanic_ was Abraham Lincoln's assassination. He was shot by John Wilkes Booth on the evening of April 14, 1865, and he died early in the morning of April 15, 1865. Two tragedies on the same days, just forty-seven years apart.**


	6. Chapter 6: April 14, 1912- Iceberg

_April 14, 1912_

Most people were asleep at 11:20 p.m., but America wasn't most people. He found night time the perfect time to do his work. It was quiet, peaceful, and there were no activities to go to. He just felt like his mind was most at ease in the late hours. The soothing sound of the ship breaking the still water in front of it and the fresh, crisp sea air were a bonus.

He sat cross legged on the floor of his suite, despite the fact there was a perfectly good chair right beside him. It was something that he did at home too. Sitting on the floor allowed him to spread out his work and relax. He didn't feel so constricted or restless.

He picked up his bottle of brandy and took a swig, thinking about how France would chastise him for such actions. According to him, alcohol should be savored and consumed from a glass at all times. Not that America really cared what France thought. It wasn't like the older nation even let America go out drinking when he was actually visiting because he was "still just a child."

"Pretentious, hypocritical bastard..." America muttered to himself as he filled out some agriculture and manufacturing reports. He made mental note to ask South Carolina or Delaware to look them over when he got home. He would hate to overstate or understate something because of a misplaced number.

But neither France nor his paper work was the reason he was drinking. He was really concerned that the ship hadn't stopped for the night. Granted, _Titanic_ had been sailing through the night since it departed Southampton, but he thought that the captain would stop her because of the weather. It the problem wasn't storms, it was actually that the sea was eerily calm. There were no winds, meaning there were no waves, which made it hard to see obstacles because there was nothing to indicate danger. Boasting the ship was unsinkable was one thing, it was another thing to test fate and challenge God.

He had seen the best things brought down by human cockiness, and that's all continuing at full speed in dangerous waters was. He couldn't shake the ominous feeling he'd had for days that something was going to happen. So instead of sitting around worrying, he decided to drink and do his paperwork. Not the best coping mechanism and he was bound to catch Hell from his boss later, but it was better than getting personally involved, which was always a mistake nations made when it came to humans. Besides, if something happened, it wasn't like he could actually die. Only the over 2,000 innocent souls on board were in danger. No big deal.

"What am I doing with my life?" he wondered aloud as he laid his pen on the report. "I'm sitting on the grandest ship in the world at nearly midnight, drinking and doing paper work while simultaneously worrying about the consequences of human stupidity. That sounds about right. Way to have your priorities straightened out, Alfred."

He got up to stretch. He flicked open his pocket watch to see the time. It was 11:35, meaning that he had been working for three hours straight. He could only imagine what England would have to say to that. England assumed he was lazy and procrastinated at everything.

No wonder he was getting more and more agitated though. He was a very active person and sitting for three hours straight was absolute torture in his mind. He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one up. He normally tried to limit himself to two a day, but for some reason he had smoked through almost an entire pack. It was a good thing he had two more packs. They should be enough to get him through the rest of the trip to New York.

For some reason, instead of calming him down, the cigarette made America feel even more jumpy. He only felt jumpy when there was danger either nearby or in his country. He didn't think anything major was going on at home. Surely Pennsylvania or Delaware would have told him if there was and he'd be able to sense it. That meant there must be danger nearby. Either that, or he was really starting to get paranoid.

"Maybe I should take a walk." he told himself as he disposed of his cigarette by pitching it out the window. He picked up one of the books he brought along, _Futility, Or the Wreck of the Titan_ by Morgan Robertson, deciding that he'd go sit out on the promenade and read. "Yeah, a walk sounds pretty good."

He went to grab his coat, only to stop in his tracks. There was a rumbling underneath him, and it didn't feel natural. The light fixtures in the room vibrated as if they were being disturbed. "What the-"

He saw something white flash in the corner of his eye. He glanced at the window to see what it was. The sight of a huge, white wall made his jaw drop. "Holy shit..."

He started panicking internally, though he'd never admit it later. Absolute dread watched over him. It was completely unnecessary, as he wasn't in any real danger if the ship were to go down. He was a nation; he couldn't die. But it wasn't himself he was afraid for. It was the other passengers.

It was 11:40 p.m., April 14, 1912 and the _Titanic_ had just collided with an iceberg in the middle of the North Atlantic. The nearest land was Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, nearly four hundred miles away. The nearest ship, the _SS Californian_ , had shut of her radios for the night, having sent a message to the _Titanic_ earlier in the evening about stopping for the night because of ice before doing so. _Titanic_ and the 2,200 souls she was carrying were all alone to face their fate.

America closed his eyes and began to pace around the room. He knew something was going to happen. He should have listened to his gut instinct and gotten off _Titanic_ before she headed out to sea. That would have done nothing to prevent her fate, but at least he wouldn't be on her.

She could stay afloat with four compartments filled with water. Depending on how bad the damage was, there was still a chance that less than four were filling up. After all, she just grazed it, right? Only one side of the ship was damaged, so it couldn't be that bad.

Still, something told America that his fears about _Titanic_ 's voyage were correct. The White Star Line would have their headlines, just not the ones they hoped for. By the end of the night, _Titanic_ and most of her passengers would most likely meet their demise, America feared. All of her beauty and grandeur would be swallowed by the dark, icy waves. The White Star Line would pay dearly for this.

He started muttering rapidly under his breath, simultaneously cursing England's cockiness and praying that this damn ship really was unsinkable.

* * *

 **The _Titanic_ has finally met the iceberg. And America, if only you knew cigarettes don't actually calm you down. Back then people believed cigarettes were good for calming the nerves. Obviously we know better now. Also, littering. **

**April 14th and 15th just aren't good days for America, are they? First Lincoln gets shot and dies, then the _Titanic_ strikes an iceberg and sinks.**

 **Some notes:**

 **The sea the night _Titanic_ sank was calm, which made it harder to see icebergs. The _Titanic_ was also going full speed at the time of the collision. _Titanic_ did not stop that night because Captain Smith did not perceive icebergs to be a problem.**

 ** _Futility, Or the Wreck of the Titan_ by Morgan Robertson is a book that deals with the sinking of a fictional ocean liner called the _Titan_. There are many parallels between the _Titan_ and _Titanic_.**

 **The _Titanic_ fatally struck an iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on April 14, 1912 on its starboard side. Most passengers felt nothing when _Titanic_ struck the iceberg. The nearest place to the sinking was Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada at nearly four hundred miles away. The nearest responding ship could only reach her in four hours at full speed, but that was too long. There was no one who could help the 2,200 souls she was carrying.**

 **So you remember the message the wireless operator on the _Titanic_ sent saying, "Shut up, I'm working"? That message was sent to the _SS Californian_ , which was much closer than the _Carpathia_ , the closest ship that responded to the S.O.S. The _Californian_ sent a message to inform _Titanic_ they were stopping for the night due to ice and would be shutting off their radios, and the chief wireless operator on _Titanic_ , who was busy sending out passengers' messages, dismissed the _Californian_ 's message. So, Captain Smith never received that final ice warning, which probably would have convinced him to stop for the night; therefore _Titanic_ could have avoided the collision with the iceberg. The _Californian_ could have easily gotten to the _Titanic_ in time, but didn't because the _Titanic_ had no way to radio her and the captain of the _Californian_ ignored _Titanic_ 's distress flares. This is the reason why ships today are not allowed to turn off their communications while they're out at sea.**


End file.
